Caged Wolf (Wolves of Willow Bend Book 2) (8 page)

When she stumbled, he slid an arm around her. Hilarity still raking her insides, she tried to catch her breath. It proved a futile effort, because every time their gazes met, fresh waves of glee erupted. Out of breath and barely able to stand, she leaned heavily on A.J.. Together they sank down to sit in the grass. Panting, she focused on the trees, the bushes, the bark—anything to avoid looking at him and losing it all over again.

Bit-by-bit, his ragged breathing eased. When he brushed his lips to her temple, she closed her eyes. Could a person be startled and relieved at the same time?

“Thank you,” he said, the soft whisper of his voice an intimate promise.

“For cracking up?” The tension split down the middle, and she wanted to burrow into the peacefulness generated by their fit of giggles. “You’re welcome.”

With a grin in his voice, he said, “For reminding me what it is like to laugh. I haven’t had a reason to in a very long time.”

Sobering thought.

“Don’t,” he ordered, giving her upper arm a squeeze. “Don’t retreat. There is no blame.”

The buzzing of a bee as it drifted a lazy path captivated her attention. Sunlight dappled the landscape beneath the canopy of the trees.

“It’s like a magical fairyland.”

“You embrace the non sequitur, don’t you?”

Delighted, and intrigued, she cast a sideways glance in his direction.

“What?” At her scrutiny, he raised his eyebrows. The grooves in his cheeks deepened with his smile. For a split second, she saw him as she had that night—robust, virile, and so full of life. He’d worn his strength like a shield, but he’d been gentle and so damn careful with her.

“Tell me you’ll be well again.” She had to know, craved the knowledge as though it were her next and last breath. “Tell me being in prison didn’t cripple you.”

The joy in his eyes dimmed and he shrugged. “I don’t know. My parents took us to a zoo once.” A glimpse of another life whet her appetite for more. He curved his fingers, stroking her shoulder in a light petting gesture. The twisted pieces in her soul began to relax. “It was a fun day out. Linc, Tyler, me—Ranae was still little. We took turns corralling her when she tried to run off. I loved all the different animals and the smells. Most of the animals—the predators especially—recognized us for what we were. They kept a wary distance, but I saw this lion. He sat on a rock and looked right through me. Not even an ounce of challenge or care.” The more he spoke, the greater the distance in his voice.

He was slipping away from her. Scooching sideways, she brushed her fingers to his cheek and his gaze slammed into hers, rooting her in place. “I stared at him, tried to get him to stare back. I wanted to see the fierceness in him that I’d seen in the other animals.”

Sadness swam through her. “But you didn’t?”

“No.” He shook his head, never once looking away from her. “My father told me to leave him alone. Some animals, Andrew, he said, do not fare well in captivity. Sometimes they give up. They deserve our sympathy and our care, but also peace. So leave him alone.”

Vivian swallowed hard. “You’re not that lion, A.J..”

“Aren’t I?” Though his tone was arch, and seeming blasé, his eyes weren’t. They burned with a ferocity she remembered—imprinted in her soul and appearing in her dreams so often, she’d memorized their detail. Beneath the haze and the fog, the glint of it still shone in him.

“I see you staring me,” she said, tracing her fingers along his jaw and then up to outline the shape of his eyes. He caught her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. The brush of his kiss to her skin sent a quiver along her nerves. Everything in her went low, tight, and hot. “You see
me.
”

“Yes.” So much emotion vibrated in the single syllable. “I see you.” His irises blazed blue, chasing the darkness away. He cupped her chin. Time slowed as he bent his head and then his mouth closed over hers. Liquid heat raced through her blood. Opening to him was as natural as breathing, and the first brush of his tongue to hers short-circuited her nervous system.

One moment she leaned into him, the next she straddled his lap. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she threaded her fingers through his hair. Soft, and hard. Darkly dangerous and liquid sunshine. The torrent singed her, then he deepened the kiss and she forgot how to think.

Everything heightened. The rich amber of his scent, the salt of his sweat, and the pure masculine taste of him filled her. She drank it in greedily, hungry for more. His chest vibrated and she as much felt as heard his growl. The graze of his teeth over her lower lip sent another bolt of lust arcing over her spine.

Alive.

The unmistakable sound and fury of living blazed through her system. As swiftly as the kiss began, so it ended abruptly. A.J. surged upward, and she was suddenly behind him. His shoulders tensed and his posture hardened as he faced away from her. His growl deepened, reverberating with violence.

Looking past him, she realized—belatedly—they were no longer alone. Linc stood on the other side of the clearing, hands raised. “Sorry, brother. I came to see you. Didn’t mean to cock block.”

With a lunge, A.J. charged his brother and tackled him. Heart in her throat, Vivian worried they were really fighting until she heard the sound of laughter as the two wrestled. Though clearly bulkier than his brother, Linc ended on his back more often than not. A rush of wind and one twig snapping were all the warning she received before Tyler joined in on the fray.

The three brothers pounded on each other, laughing, wrestling, shouting, and—“They’re playing.” Her lips still tingled from his kiss. Their earlier laughter left her heart lighter, but watching him with his brothers was a revelation.

A roar set them off again, but no matter how physical their altercation seemed, no anger marked their mock battle. Normally, she shied completely away from violence. Hell, a day earlier, she’d run like hell from the promise of it when Linc arrived at her apartment parking lot.
So why am I sitting here watching them?
More, she burst out laughing.

As if reminded of her presence, the three ceased and turned as one to face her, the synchronous motion so perfect, it didn’t seem to have been affected by their lengthy separation. Linc and Tyler held onto their youth and vigor, but A.J. had been set apart from his identical status—older, wiser, and infinitely sexier.

His face softened. “We didn’t scare you.”

“No,” she shook her head. “Not at all. Feel free to continue beating on your brothers…”

Linc’s grin went wide with delight, Tyler whooped and all three fell on each other again. Seven years before, those same three brothers happened across her at the worst moment in her life. Darkness clouded her vision. She left the dappled forest and scrambled across rain-slicked blacktop. Her knees bled and her hands were torn. A hand seized her hair and pulled her backward, she fought, screaming and clawing as she was dragged across the rough, black-topped parking lot.

Pain exploded in the side of her face. Stars danced before her eyes. She’d hit something. A car? A wall? Still struggling to gather her wits, she had a spare few seconds to see the fist flying at her before fresh pain exploded in her face. Blows rained down upon her. The copper taste of blood flooded her mouth and she blinked hard.

Sunlight split the memory in half and she was in the woods again. Across from her, the three continued to play, though they seemed to be talking as much as they wrestled. They laughed, but A.J. shot a look toward her.  She wasn’t in that parking lot, no one was dragging her into trash strewn, smelly alleyway. Not anymore.

Vivian’s smile hurt her cheeks, but watching them…she saw the truth. A.J. was not the lion in the zoo, the one who’d given up. His spirit might be damaged and his heart hurt, but he wasn’t broken.

I’m not done.
Sudden certainty filled her. Unlocking his cage hadn’t been enough. She needed to free him fully. If she did nothing else during her stay in Willow Bend, she would free him.

I promise.
She owed him that and so much more.

Having Linc and Tyler with him and Vivian righted the world on its axis, though he could have wished his brothers had better timing. The taste of Vivian’s kiss haunted him and he wanted another. Much he would share with his brothers, but not her. Her laughter resonated within him, soothing raw nerves and easing aches and pains he had barely acknowledged.

She sat in the grass, sunlight glinting off the red and gold strands in her dark hair. The woman needed to be outside every day. Her skin, however, was too pale for long-term exposure. Spurred by the thought, he elbowed Linc. “We were on our way to see Emma.”

“Is something wrong?” To his brother’s credit, Linc looked directly at Vivian with a concerned frown. “I thought Gillian had seen her and that Margo hadn’t hurt her.” The slight hitch in the sentence betrayed Linc’s thoughts on the subject better than a growl. He’d been the one who’d tried to keep the Enforcer and Owen from taking her.

A.J. tapped Linc’s shoulder with a light fist. “Gillian did. This is something else.”

“We’ll walk with you,” Tyler offered and, before A.J. could react, his brother walked to where Vivian sat and offered his hand. She gave him a small, shy smile and let him help her to her feet. Her eyes widened, however, when Tyler lifted her into a hug. “It’s good to see you again.” Affectionate welcome aside, if his brother didn’t put her down in
one, two…
 

Tyler set her on her feet and A.J. held out his hand. She abandoned his brother and accepted his hand, interlacing their fingers without a shred of hesitation. Mollified by her blatant choice, he nodded to Tyler. “Not that I mind the company, but Emma hasn’t moved has she?”

“No,” Linc answered and took point to lead the way. Tyler fell in behind them and A.J. understood.

His brothers wanted to protect him. Growing up in Willow Bend, it had always been the three of them, thick as thieves. Yes, they had friends and other family—and of course their baby sister—but the bond he shared with Linc and Tyler went beyond blood. In his life, it had always been brothers, family, pack…

Before.

Slanting a look at the woman walking beside him, his heart shuddered. He’d chosen Vivian over his brothers, over his family and over his pack.

“I was moving to Arizona,” Vivian said, though he’d missed the question when he’d been lost in thought.

No, she cannot go to Arizona.
He refused to even contemplate the possibility. Not anymore. They’d talked so briefly on the subject and he understood her need to be away from St. Louis, to leave behind the city where she’d suffered so much pain.

“You don’t want to go there,” Tyler said, echoing A.J.’s internal monologue. “It’s hot, dusty and miles away from anything interesting.” And controlled utterly by the Sutter Butte pack.

“It’s not all dusty. Flagstaff is supposed to be lovely. It has trees…”

“We have trees here,” Linc answered. “Better temperatures. Good hunting. Lots of open land.”

“Yeah, you want to move, move here.” His brothers launched into all the attributes for the local area, but A.J. said nothing.  He felt, more than saw, Vivian’s gaze upon him, but he didn’t have the right to comment. Not when he only had orders to offer her. He didn’t want her going anywhere except right here.

With him.

No exceptions.

A wild possessiveness surged in his blood, chasing away reason. He didn’t dare open his mouth. No, silence was better.

Except his brothers wouldn’t shut up. Linc spun to walk backwards, his attention on Vivian. “What would you do in Arizona that you can’t do here?”

“Get a job for one.”

“We have jobs,” Tyler volunteered. “What do you do? We’ll find some places for you to apply.”

A.J.’s attention riveted to her response. What did she do? When he’d met her, she’d been a student. At least he thought she had. He remembered textbooks. Or maybe that had been a dream.

She hesitated, uncertainty filled her scent and her heart sped up. Worry, anxiety, fear—the combination threatened to gut him.  He squeezed her hand, rubbing his thumb over her knuckle. The dark scents occluding her sweetness diminished. “I write code,” she said, a shy note clinging to the underside of the words. “For videos games.”

“Seriously?” A.J. blinked. The information didn’t match with the image he’d constructed.

“Yes, seriously.” She angled her face upward to meet his gaze. His heart kicked at his ribs. Every time their eyes met, the link struck him like a physical blow. Yet, he remained eager for the pain—because this particular hurt felt good. “I’ve always liked computers, I like code, and I have a knack for it.”

“That’s cool. Do we know any of the games you’ve worked on?” Tyler again. Really, his brothers needed to butt out.

“Mostly what I’ve done is some backgrounds and some physical animation.” She paused, then cast another sideways look at A.J. He read the question in her eyes. Surprise, followed by a rush of pure pleasure, knocked his bad mood aside. Requesting his permission eased his growing obsession. He wanted her alone, without his damn brothers, but he could afford patience with the gift she’d given him.

Nodding, he squeezed her hand again. “What kind of animations?”

“Um,” she hedged. Her scent changed again, only he didn’t taste the same fear or upset he had earlier. This was a new one, adding a sharper, more piquant note to the tartness of the strawberries he associated with her. “I did some of the new lands in Savage Predators…”

The name meant nothing to A.J., but Linc halted abruptly, forcing them to do the same. Tyler circled to stand next to his brother and they both stared at her. “Don’t ever tell Mason,” they said it in perfect chorus. The aggressiveness of their posture wasn’t lost on A.J. and he eased Vivian behind them and glared at his brothers until they dropped their gazes.

“Fuck, A.J..” Tyler held up his hands. “We’re not mad, but Mason’s been really cool about stuff. He’s not Toman and he doesn’t have a stick up his ass, but he also doesn’t put up with bullshit.”